


The World Keeps Turning

by Canarianyellow



Category: Bleach
Genre: Ancient History, Canon Compliant, Gen, History in the Making, Hueco Mundo, Im taking liberties, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Other, Past, Past Tense, Spoilers, idk man this might just be a oneshot, its a bit of both, like millennia in the past, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canarianyellow/pseuds/Canarianyellow
Summary: The First King was a beast of a creature, his mask never changing and his hair a firey orange. He was bored, so he made a kingdom. He was lonely, so he made a life.He was weak, so he died to a white sword through his chest.





	The World Keeps Turning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hi sorry I was gone for like 3 weeks, June is one of the busiest times of the year for me so I've been running around just trying to get things done!! But here have a story I wrote.   
> The history of Hueco Mundo has always been something I've been curious about and have wanted to know more about for years, so I decided to write my own backstory for it. Kind of. It's not a total history, because where's the fun in that? We gotta have some mystery.   
> I like the idea that history was forgotten and misconstrued over thousands of years, leading to a lot of it being just plain wrong or unknown. After all, the First King died 10,000 years ago. That might not seem like long, but Hollows tend to die rather quickly if they're weak. It's hard to keep up with the rapidness of an ever-changing hierarchy.

_ I see the world with new eyes.  _

_ There is sand beneath my feet _

_ And a sky of stars above my head.  _

_ Every colour is crisp and fresh,  _

_ And every sound is a roaring in my ears. _

_ I wonder, briefly,  _

_ If every day will be like this.  _

* * *

 

She was born to sand and glowing moonlight. Sheer white, unnatural skin and equally pale eyes. There was no colour to her; her hair shone like snow beneath the moon as she took her first breath. Her body shook, eyes still closed. She sat on her knees on the golden sand, arms barely keeping her from completely falling over. 

She took shallow, slow breaths. Eventually, her shaking shoulders began to relax. Her eyes slipped open. She stared at the back of her hand, taking in the soft, white skin.  She slid a hand through the sand, enjoying the feeling of it beneath her fingers. She made a soft, humming noise. She lifted her hand slowly, watching the little grains slip from her grip.

Everything looked new through her eyes- rare and beautiful and so  _ new _ . The coarse, golden sand shifted beneath her. She stared at the grains and stones, hands sliding through it as she took in every sensation. It felt so rough yet smooth and completely and utterly  _ new.  _ The golden shade of the fine sand against her white limbs looked so beautiful and vibrant. 

There was no noise, in this moment. The wind did not blow. No sounds of carnage or warring creatures in the distance. Just silence, the hiss of sand moving beneath her hands the only disruption. She lifted her head to the starless sky, the full moon greeting her in all of its glory. The light reflected in her eyes, both the same silvery white. There was a pull in her chest as she stared at it. Slowly, she tried to stand on her own feet. 

She toppled almost immediately. Her legs shook weakly and buckled beneath her. She let out a soft gasp as she fell to the yellow sand below. Her hands, though, never landed back on the ground. A gentle, large hand wrapped around her middle, stopping her from toppling over completely. The hand was calloused and cold against her bare stomach. Her hands felt against the oversized fingers, sliding up to prop herself up with them. Her legs still shook like a newborn lamb’s as she stared at the large, dark hand helping her stand. The hand was gentle, as if hesitant to touch her. 

She lifted her gaze to the hand’s owner; a giant of a creature, standing just behind her. She’d not noticed him standing there. He was crouched down now, one hand holding her up while the other stood frozen beside him, as if he could not comprehend what to do with himself. Long, orange hair and a face hidden behind a great, horned mask. His golden eyes shone beneath it, peering down at her with unknown emotions. She watched him curiously as the shaking began to subside. Her mouth opened slowly, a single word slipping out. 

“Hello.” 

* * *

 

“What am I?” The young child asked, silver eyes transfixed on the yellow sand beneath her toes. “Why am I here?” She raised her gaze upwards, looking to the great creature before her. Long strands of white hair slid down equally white shoulders, slipping down her back as she watched the monstrous man. 

“You are my heart, mi corazón, given physical form.” His voice rumbled. The oasis shook with his every word, back hunched as he sat beside the pool of water. He glanced down to her, white mask unreadable as his golden gaze watched her.  He brought a giant hand down to rest just behind her, leaning back nonchalantly. “I don’t know why I made you- perhaps I was lonely.” 

“Lonely…?” She mused, eyes sliding back to the now calming pool. She shifted closer to the giant, bringing her knees to her chest. “Are kings often lonely?” She inquired, silvery eyes fixed ahead. 

He let out a rumbling noise- something akin to a hum. “I don’t know any others kings.” He replied, “But being the King of a land so full of destruction is probably the loneliest someone could be.” 

She looked up at him, hand gently sliding through the soft sand. She smiled after a moment, looking back to the water. She leaned heavily against the must larger beast of a man, “Then I hope I can ease that loneliness.” 

A large, clawed hand enveloped the small child-like girl as he lifted her up as if she were something precious. “Every day you spend beside me, you ease it greatly.” He replied, earning a smile from the girl. “Now let’s go, there is much to do.” 

She hummed as he gingerly placed her on his shoulder. Her hand reached up to grip the wild orange hair at his nape, shoulders relaxing as she looked forward across the vast desert lit by moonlight. “Okay, mi Rey.” 

“Why do they kill?” She asked, watching from his shoulder as a masked, feral creature devoured another. Her hand slid from his nape as she stood, eyes bearing down on the sight before them with curiosity. 

“They kill to live, and devour to evolve.” He answered, “It is our nature, to strive to be the strongest. If something stronger comes, then the weak will die.” 

“Is it your nature too?” She looked at him. 

His eyes stayed fixed on the beast before them, eyes calm and narrow beneath his mask. “Yes. Even I cannot shake the need to be stronger, to not be devoured.” 

“But you’re the king. Are you not the strongest?” She questioned. 

He let out a low hum, “For now, I am the strongest. I’ve devoured millions and evolved all I can, mi corazón. But that may not be the case forever.” He slowly turned away from the sight as more creatures and beasts began to emerge, scavenging for anything remaining. “Even I could be devoured one day.” 

“If you die, what will become of me?” She wondered out loud, glancing back at the carnage they’d left before looking at her king once again, silvery eyes wide. 

“You would live, mi corazón. No creature here could harm you- it is against their instincts, their nature.  _ Protect the heart- _ it is written in their very being, from the moment they come into existence.”

“But if you were devoured, I would be alone.” It was equally a question and not as she shifted to once again sit on the great giant’s shoulder. 

“Yes… I suppose you would.” He replied, shaking the earth with every step as he moved across the desert. “Then you would be the lonely one.” 

“I’ve never been alone…” She mused. Her hand slowly formed a fist against his shoulder, “I don’t think I’d like it.” 

“I don’t believe anyone enjoys it, mi corazón.” He rumbled in reply. “But everyone understands it, and everyone endures it at least once in their life. It is why monsters like me exist.” 

“Were you always a monster?” She asked, silvery eyes never leaving the horizon. 

He paused at her question, momentarily standing still as he turned to look at her. Her head was leaning to one side in curiosity, white hair brushing against his shoulder with every movement. Her features remained neutral, yet there was a melancholy wetness to her eyes; she knew the answer already. Nonetheless, she waited patiently for his reply. 

He turned forward once again and resumed his walking, “No. There was a time I could call myself human.” 

“Do you remember being human?” 

“Sometimes.”

“Why only sometimes?” 

“It hurts, remembering my life before this.” He answers, “They are not fond memories, or even good ones. I can only remember the pain, and my death. I don’t think I was a good human.” 

“Humans can be bad?” She looked at him, brows raised as she asked. 

“A human can be no better than us beasts at time, mi corazón.” He replied, stopping as they came upon an oasis, cool water reflecting the moon above. 

She hums in response, eyes sliding to watch the pool as well. There was a calm silence, with only the wind hissing across the sand. The water was calm and clear, just barely shifting with the breeze. 

“You weren’t a bad human.” She said finally, catching the great monster off guard. He raised his head from staring at the water, white mask turning to stare at the girl in surprised silence. 

She looked back at him with the smallest of smiles, eyes calm and steady. The silence was almost deafening as he took in her words, as sure as they were. There was no waver in her voice, no room for argument. It was a statement; she wholeheartedly believed what she said. Her hand rested warmly just at the base of his neck. 

Her gaze turned to the full moon above, a soft smile still on her face. “You were good, mi Rey.” She affirmed. 

“Was I?” He questioned, gaze still locked on her small, almost fragile frame atop his shoulder. 

She blinked, looking back down at him. She studied his mask for a moment, eyes thoughtful. After a moment, she smiled again, silver eyes light with something akin to amusement. “Don’t doubt your heart.” She replied.

The words immediately struck a chord in the giant monster, his breath hitching. His mask remained stoic in place of his face, but his eyes were wide beneath it. The white haired child turned back to the sky, one had gently brushing against his hardened hide and armor. She continued to smile, silvery eyes lit by the moonlight. The wind was silent now, seeming to not even dare disturb this moment. 

His eyes slid close, head turning to once again face the horizon, letting her words hanging between them. 

He was sure that, in that moment, if he could he would cry. 

* * *

 

“Were you always king?” She asked, hand resting on sheer white walls of  _ El Reino _ as they stood in a great, open room. He sat just before her in an equally white throne, arms resting on either side as he leaned back to think on her answer. 

“No.” He answered, “I wasn’t always king, but I have been the first to call myself that- to have others call me that.” 

“There wasn’t a king before you?” 

“There was barely a Hueco Mundo before me, let alone a king.” He looked above to the sky, no roof above them. “We simply wandered the living world before this world was made.” 

“Did you make it?” 

“No.”

“Who did?” 

He looked down at her- his heart- and rolled his massive shoulders in something akin to a shrug. “I don’t know, mi corazón.” he replied simply. “This world is old; older than me.” 

“But you made these walls?” She stared at the carefully carved walls, tracing every imperfection her fingers came across. 

“Yes. I made this place.” He looked around the great throne room, white mask forever in place. “This world was nothing but a barren desert when I came to it.” 

She hummed, accepting the answer easily enough. Her hand slipped away from the wall as she turned back to the great throne. “Your work is beautiful.” She said, smiling. Her eyes shone with mirth, crinkling at the edges in joy. 

He stared at her for a moment, completely caught off guard at the casual compliment towards herself. He chuckled, lowering his head and shaking it. He’d be grinning, if it were possible under his mask. “I don’t know why I expected anything else from you, mi corazón.” He sighed. 

She smiled, stepping closer to his massive form. “I don’t know why either.” She replied. He reached out a clawed hand and she easily accepted it, her small frame looking even more fragile as he scooped her back up to sit atop his shoulder. She immediately curled up against the nape of his neck, head resting against wild orange hair. 

* * *

 

The world lost its colour when it lost its king. His mask lied in pieces again the sand, blood flowing into the oasis below him. He was on his hands and knees, heaving heavy breaths. A white sword was buried into his chest, dripping crimson. She stood just before him, staring up at his pained expression, eyes wide and mouth slack with shock. 

A woman stood atop him, head held high. Raven haired and dark skinned, she didn’t look like the beasts that dwelled in the desert. Her pale eyes stared down at her shaking form, face neutral as she slid her pure white sword from the king’s chest. 

His body slumped down, shaking the whole earth as the life left him. He was dead; there was no doubt in her mind as her chest ached excruciatingly with the loss. She was on her knees before his limp body, already fading into the wind. Her mind was blank- she couldn’t think of anything in that moment, grief and shock muddying her thoughts. 

There was a hiss as feet landed on sand, snapping her attention back to the dark skinned woman. She stood just before her now, white blade drawn as she stared down at her. She held it out towards her, the blade just inches from her white face. “I am Katayun Alborz.” She stated, “And I am your King now.” 

Her pale eyes stared into golden ones, wide and shocked as she registered her words. The remnants of a white jaw- the only indication of what she was- rested plainly again her cheekbone. The contrast, light on dark, was so stark and beautiful. “Mi Rey…” She whispered. 

The words were uttered before she could help herself. She was in shock, chest aching from the loss of who could be considered her father, but she was also in awe. This woman before her, this new  _ king _ , was beautiful. She had impossible strength and a sharpness to her features. She was breathtaking in every way. 

Katayun inclined her head, piercing eyes sliding away from her’s. She sheathed her sword and turned, broad shoulders straight. She took a single step, and suddenly panic welled up in the small girl’s eyes. She reached a hand out, clasping on white fabric. “Wait-”

Those gold eyes were immediately back on her, seemingly patient and calm. “What.” She said. 

“I…” She hesitated. “I don’t want to be alone.” She managed, staring desperately at her new king. 

She stared down at her, eyes narrow in thought. After a silent moment, she turned to face her once again. “Would you be alone? If I leave?” 

She nodded quickly, white hair falling around her small frame. “Yes.” She whispered. 

There was another silence, both staring at each other, waiting. The now dulled sand hissed under her boots as she slowly crouched down. “What is your name?” She asked. 

“Corazón.” The answer came immediately, spilling from her lips before she could help it. It was what he’d called her, over and over again. It was the only name she knew; it was what she  _ was.  _ “My name is Corazón.” 

“Cora…” She hummed, eyeing her. She reached out her hand, offering it to the smaller girl. “Would you like to come with me?” 

* * *

 

Katayun was a quiet being. She rarely spoke, always had a hand on the hilt of her white sword. She hadn’t seen the woman draw it since that first time, but she often didn’t need to. She was strong. Corazón often wondered where that strength ended. It seemed so infinite. She wasn’t loud with her power, though; she did not boast of flaunt it. She’d seen what happened to those who did- they never lived long. Katayun wasn’t stupid enough to broadcast her power. 

The former king’s body remained untouched; she wondered why that was, but never had it in her to ask. His body began to decay, bones and armor fading with the winds to become sand. The land wasn’t golden any more; it was as white as  _ El Reino  _ now. Eventually, there was nothing left of the First King but echoes across the barren land. 

Kata never visited  _ El Reino.  _ She never stepped foot inside its walls, leaving it to lesser creatures to ruin and hide within. “Why don’t you go in?” She asked one day as they stood just before the east entrance. 

Her face was always stoic; her golden eyes seemed to be constantly searching and watching. “It’s not mine.” She states simply. 

She didn’t like that answer; it confused her. She didn’t question it, though. She wasn’t like the former king. She didn’t tolerate a bombardment of questions and answers. So she simply said “okay” and nothing else. 

Katayun continued staring forward for a moment, head high. The sand shifted under her feet as she raised her gaze, staring at the now-moonless sky. She sniffs, eyes narrowing as she looks at Cora. “There’s blood on the horizon. It’s time to go.” 

The air felt heavy with her words, something threatening to break the delicate balance found in the white desert. She couldn’t find it in herself to ask about it, though. She followed Kata instead, silently trailing a few steps behind. 

* * *

 

Katayun lasted nearly a century before a sword was driven through her head. She hadn’t seen it coming, but in Cora’s mind this was an obvious conclusion. The only thing more terrifying than calm was crazy. And he was the most unhinged creature she’d seen. This death seemed inevitable. Her chest still ached with the loss of yet another King, but it was nothing compared to the first. 

The creature before her had wild, yellow eyes. He stood tall with a maniacal grin and bloodstained hands. Every limb looked unnaturally long. He heaved on top of her, laughing. He slid the now-red sword from her head with a sickening sound, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. It grew louder and louder with every second until finally he raised his head and burst, cackling towards the sky. 

Red dripped from his blade, pooling just beside him. She stared at it, eyes fixed at how dark it seemed in the moonlight. She was vaguely aware of her own shaking shoulders, breath caught in her chest as she processed the carnage she’d seen. Katayun had barely stood a chance- this was no fair fight, this wasn’t a battle fit for kings. 

He’d won, though. There was a new king; a dangerous, psychotic ruler. He wouldn’t last long, though. Gazing at the drying blood, she knew without a doubt he’d be consumed in a matter of time. Maybe a decade if he was lucky. The loud ones never made it long. 

She huffed a small laugh at her own thoughts. His head snapped down to her, eyes suddenly sharp and narrow. She froze, gaze suddenly locked with his. He scowled and shifted his foot once, appearing in front of her in a flash. She jerked back, silvery eyes wide. He loomed over her. 

“You laughin’?” He sneered, his smile all teeth. His hands hovered over her, bloodied claws inchest from her bared throat. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She tried to find her voice, mouth opening but no words coming out. Suddenly the claws were gripping her throat, claws digging into her skin. She gasped, hands flying to scramble at his. He lifted her with ease, her legs now dangling above the sand. He flexed his hand, grip briefly tightening before disappearing completely. 

She gasped, heaving in breath as she landed once again on her hands and knees. She swallowed thickly, wide eyes snapping up to look at the beast before her. He stared at his hand as if burned, wild eyes wide with confusion and shock. Tense silence followed. 

His eyes slide back to her face, narrowing as if studying her. His jaw was tense, sharp teeth grinding together. She’s not sure what he saw, but he must have found something in her wide eyed gaze. He humphed and turned on his heel, disappearing as quickly as he came. Cora was left there, alone on the ground with the former king’s body just before her. There was a new king now, and Cora knew he’d be a terrible one. 

* * *

 

She’d once asked her creator how he could tell the passing of days. How he knew a day, or even a year had gone by. He’d hummed in thought, head raised to the sky as he formed an answer. He then pointed to the moon, “The phases,” he answered simply. “Every day the moon grows fuller, then empties.” He continued, “A new day means a new phase.” 

She stared at the moon, humming her acknowledgement to the explanation. “Does the living world have a moon?” She followed up with, absently brushing her hands through the reddish hair beside her. 

“Yes.” He replied. “They have a sun as well- a bright, giant star. Their days are split in half, with day and night.” 

“A sun…” She mused, eyes still fixed on the waning moon. “I think I’d like to see it one day.” 

He snorted, “Maybe you can one day.” He stood, and they began their walk across the desert once again. 

Now, looking at the moon, she wondered if it was any different than the moon in the world of the living. It was just a sliver, a small crescent in a sky full of stars. She sat with arms hugging her knees to her chest, lost in thoughts of the past. 

Scavengers had long come for Kata’s body. When they were done, only bones remained. She was sure they too would be gone eventually. The creatures had left her alone, not batting an eye at her presence. 

Some of the evolved ones, the ones standing on two feet, looked at her direction briefly. They watched her carefully, but offered no words. She wondered if they could even talk. They never had before- only Kings ever spoke to her. Just how evolved did they have to be to do it? 

They had body language, though. She could see it in the way they moved minutely, a twitch here and a shake there. The largest would hold itself with a raised head and rigid shoulders, as if always prepared for a fight. The others kept their head lowered and shoulders hunched to keep themselves small. 

The small were weak and easy pickings for the more evolved, but some seemed to just surround themselves with the weaker creatures. She couldn’t understand why. 

She wished she could ask. 

She returned to  _ El Reino.  _

* * *

 

He hadn’t even lasted a decade. The psychotic king was dead within the year, gutted and left for the scavengers. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach- she felt every king’s death. It was dulled, compared to Kata and her creator, but it was undeniable. She didn’t see it, but she knew it was nothing less than brutal. Ripped apart as if it was easy, mangled limbs barely recognizable as they lied in pools of blood. It was no less than what he deserved. She wondered who did it. 

She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. He came to  _ El Reino _ just days later, standing tall with a mask firmly hiding the upper half of his face. It looked like half a skull, with the lower jaw missing. He took one look at her with cold, blue eyes and said “I’m the new King.” 

He was strong and held his head high. His broad shoulders were straight, white clothes torn at the edges and dark skin scattered in scars. He looked like a true king, and she wished he was the one who killed Kata. It was the death she deserved, to be killed by someone truly stronger instead of a deranged creature completely ruled by instincts. 

She dipped her head, a small smile on her face as she accepted his words. “Mi Rey…” She said softly. 

He stepped to stand beside the great throne, brushing his hands against the white stone. He was marginally smaller than it, but much larger than the previous king. “You are the heart.” It sounded like more of a statement than a question. 

She looked at him, blinking with wide eyes. “Yes.” She answered. 

He turned away from her, eyes fixed on the stony walls. They’d began to crack without anyone to maintain them. “There’s a story…” He began slowly, arms folded behind his back. “The previous king began spewing it to the lessers of us.” 

She looked at him, curiosity piqued. She sat straighter against one of the walls, knees pressed against her chest. “What kind of story?” She prompted. 

“A strange story.” He replied, “He would go on and on about a weak little thing he tried to kill.” He looked pointedly at her. She ducked her head, knowing full well who he was talking about. “He said his hand burned the moment he had it around her throat.” 

Her own hand lifted to brush against her neck, remembering what had happened just days ago clearly. She could recall his quick retraction, as if stung. 

“He came to a conclusion.” he continued. He started slowly pacing about the room, eyes occasionally drifting back to her. “He said you were  _ Hueco Mundo _ herself.” 

She nearly smiled at the silly thought, nose wrinkling at the very idea. He must have seen her amusement because he stopped just before her, head lowering to stare at her. She looked up at him, pale blue meeting silver. 

“I said he was lying.” He whispered, voice so strangely calm but stony. “And then I cut him down.” He straightened back up, standing tall once again. “It was easy.” 

She hummed, “I knew it would be.” She responded. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “He was deranged; everyone knows they don’t last long like that.” 

“Indeed.” he replied. 

* * *

 

It lasted nearly a century, with this new king. Things seemed calmer, with something as cold as him on the throne. He utilized the title of king to the fullest he could with trying to create a system that was more civilized, with himself at the top. He surrounded himself with the weak, offering “protection”. He made himself out to be a merciful king. 

She could see through it, though. He was strong, probably the closest to her King, but he was still driven by a hunger for  _ more.  _ He still feared destruction. He was still violent and she wondered sometimes if he wasn’t just as insane as the last. He was paranoid and lashed out at the slightest defiance. And all the while, he used her as the means of staying in the throne. 

“Hueco Mundo herself chose me.” He’d say. They both knew it was a lie, but she said nothing to contradict it. She let him rule however he wanted- she’d long outlive him, anyways. 

His madness was different than the last king’s, but no less destructive. He was a manipulator. Every action had an explanation; every death had a reason. He was ruled by paranoia and fear but hid it well. The weak cowered before him, and the strong stayed in line in fear of being devoured. He made a perfect web of lies and pain and deception in an effort to stay King. 

Naturally, the lessers began to flock to her side. They’d quiver, saying barely intelligible things. With the King practically a tyrant, she seemed like some kind of pure being of light. She allowed it, if only to spite her new king. She found them to be funny in their odd ways. They spoke more in growls and strange noises than in real words. She could understand them, somewhat. She guesses it was the nature of her creation to always be connected to them. 

It was one of these weaklings that eventually evolved into something greater, something worth contending with. She was fierce, her mask protruding like a true feral beast. Her shoulders hunched forward as she stood. Her blade was something truly beautiful- it shone red in the light, yet to shed blood, The thirst for it was clear as day, however. 

It was the first true uprising. Before now, a king was just a title for the strongest. But now there was weight, and the weak would follow. There was a new king now, and she was terrifying in her ferocity. She towered over the now dead king, heaving heavy breaths as she stared down at the spectating beasts. 

“I am King!” She screamed, “I am king!” She lifted her bloodied sword and let out a piercing screech. Immediately, the others answered. The white halls echoed with their voices. 

They devoured his body quickly, taking everything they could and leaving nothing behind. The white was stained red. It looked nearly black beneath the moonless sky. She sat quietly and watched. She wondered what hunger felt like. 

The carnage didn’t end with the former king, though. This new king pointed her sword next at the strong, at the ones who could even potentially match her might. She cut them down and left the bodies for the lessers. Her eyes weren’t visible, but Cora could imagine the wild look in them. 

She stopped just before her, sword dripping blood at her feet. She pointed at her, the tip just barely brushing against her pale chest. “Am I your king?” She asked. 

She looked at her. Her black hair was a mess, sticky with drying blood. She smiled slightly as she stared at the beastly mask of the woman. “Mi Rey.” She answered. 

The sword disappeared as quickly as it came, sheathed once again. She turned and left the smaller girl where she sat. The halls were still echoing with the carnage and screams. 

The massacre would last for days. 

* * *

 

The bloodbath ended with Cora leaving  _ El Reino.  _

The boredom grew too strong- she felt the pull to wander once again, like she had done on the shoulder of her creator. The world seemed emptier now, with so many dead and eaten. Few wandered the empty desert now. There were more packs- they grew smarter every day, even the lesser evolved ones seemed faster to adapt and understand. 

The white sand seemed to glow under the moonlight. The winds were now constantly blowing. The oasis from her early days was nothing but a distant memory now- it had long dried out. It had truly become a wasteland. Nothing looked the same as it did nearly two hundred years ago. It was… flatter now; duller. 

She continued to walk, though. 

Five days into her wandering, and creatures began to follow her. They trailed behind her like shadows, quietly talking amongst themselves and they watched her. They were all small and weak- she’s sure they would be killed in a heartbeat if not for her. She didn’t particularly care if they did die, but none had tried. 

Sometimes they’d disappear. She’s sure they would wander to scavenge for things to eat, leftovers from larger predators. They’d come back with blood on their masks. Sometimes, one wouldn’t return at all.  _ Probably dead _ , she reasoned. 

She spent centuries like this, exploring every corner of the world. One king died, then two, then three. She lost count after the fifth. Before she knew it, nearly four hundred years had passed without much thought. She spent most of it alone, when the beasts and creatures left her to scavenge and hunt. It was silent. She equally welcomed the quiet and hated it. 

It was one night, alone under a moonless sky, that found her staring into the eyes of something not from  _ Hueco Mundo _ . The silence she’d grown used to was broken by the sound of sand hissing under someone’s footsteps. She turned to glance over her shoulder, expecting a weak creature, but she found herself face to face with someone she’d never seen before. 

They wore all black, a sword at their side. Hands were gripping the handle, ready to unsheath the blade at a moment’s notice. They heaved heavy breaths, eyes hard and cautious as they met hers. Silvery white bore into black. Cora found herself gawking at this new creature. 

They had no mask- not even a fragment of one. Their skin was blemish free, dark and beautiful. Their eyes narrowed as they looked down on her, staring with awe-filled wonder at something entirely new. 

“Hello.” She said softly, wide eyes staring into their narrow ones. “Are you a human?” 

They sneered at her, eyes glaring as they gripped the hilt of their sword. “No.” They answered. 

She blinked, tilting her head. “Then what are you?” She shifted in the white sand, hands sliding against the ground. 

“I’m a shinigami.” They said, voice cold and slow. The word was new to her- she’d never heard it before. “Are you a hollow?” They asked. 

She blinked, brows furrowing slightly. Was that what they were called, the creatures she was born with? The masked things, fighting over power and life- were they called hollows? ANd could she even be considered one of them? She smiled slowly, tilting her head. “I think I am.” She answered them. 

Their blade was immediately unsheathed, the black hilt revealing a beautiful silvery sword. They moved before she could even take another breath. The sword was suddenly against her cheek, cutting the skin. She blinked, mouth hanging open as she stared at this person- this shinigami- before her. 

Red dripped down onto her thighs, so vibrant against her white skin. It was the same shade as her First King’s hair. She stared at it in shock, then turned to look back up at the shinigami. Their eyes were cold and hard, mouth pulled back into a snarl. 

They raised their blade once again, stance strong and powerful and ready to strike her down with a single blow. Something caught her eye, though, just behind the shinigami. A white blur, a blood-stained mask. The shinigami’s blade never had the chance to strike her as a clawed hand was driven through their gut. 

They gasped with a sick lurch, hands going slack and the sword falling to the ground. The beast growled from behind them, hand still deep in their abdomen. The two were suddenly surrounded, more beasts coming in retaliation of this intruder. They grabbed at the shinigami’s limbs, tearing them apart right before Cora’s eyes. It was the brutal carnage she was used to, but it felt different somehow. 

One of beasts sniffed at her, tongue slipping out of their mask to lick at her bloodied cheek as a comforting gesture. She blinked and looked at the creature- at the hollow. He was watching her silently, as if waiting for something. 

“I’m okay.” She found herself saying. The beast huffed and stalked away to join in the carnage. They were devouring and fighting over parts of the shinigami, growling and hissing at each other. 

Did they do this for her? Was that what was different? When her creator had said they all had  _ protect the heart _ ingrained into their very being, was this was he had meant? Not only could they not hurt her, but they’d tear anyone who tried apart? It seemed to click in her mind slowly, as if a blindfold was being lifted from her eyes. 

They stopped as quickly as they had begun, blood pooling across the white sand as they huffed and devoured whatever remained of the intruder. A four-legged beast plopped onto the ground in front of her, eyes narrow as he licked the blood from his paws. Some dispersed while others lounged around her like it was any other day. As quickly as the threat had come, it was gone. 

She wondered if she would ever see a  _ shinigami _ again. 

* * *

 

She didn’t- not for a very long time. 

They came to  _ Hueco Mundo-  _ she could almost feel it. They never got close enough to her, though. Whether they died or fled first, she wasn’t sure. The results were always the same, though- everyone seemed to be on high alert every time they came. Sometimes it was just one, and other times they came in packs. Were they packs? These  _ shinigami _ were still wholly new to her. She wondered if her creator knew of them- it was a mystery to her. 

The days went on, though. They hardly made a dent on her very long life in this wasteland. In the blink of an eye, centuries passed once again. She was once again left to herself and the weak beasts that flocked to her. Sometimes the stronger ones came, but it was rare. The desert seemed to become more barren, if that were possible. More hollows, more fighting, more consumption. A routine that went unchanging. They fed and ripped each other apart in a desperate attempt to not be consumed themselves. It was almost comforting to having such a static existence. 

Sometimes she was glad she had no hunger of her own- she always felt sated, never a single craving for carnage or violence. She, too, was unchanging. There was a faint scar on her cheek now; the only scar she’d ever had. It was faint and pink and difficult to differentiate from her white skin, but she knew it was there every time she brushed her hand against the raised skin. 

Kings came and went, too, giving away to all kinds of changes that she had barely registered. Being practically isolated somewhere out in a wasteland didn’t leave itself to much in the way of news. She’d heard it from some of the stronger beast, the ones who could speak. 

They spoke of  _ Las Noches _ and the concentration of hollows around there. It took her a third time hearing it to realise that  _ El Reino’s _ name had been lost to the years. One of the newer kings had claimed a name for it. It would never go by the name her creator chose for it ever again. She wondered if anyone remembered the first King, or if that was also lost to the centuries. It seemed like everything was slipping away as if they were grains of sand. 

The title of  _ king _ had lost its meaning along the way, too. It felt more like a political grab now, as if being the strongest deemed you worthy of ruling over everyone. Some still sought her out, as if her acknowledgement was worth anything. They still called her  _ Hueco Mundo _ herself, as if a barren wasteland could have a face. 

She heard whispers of the living world; they said more and more hollows were leaving to hunt there. They said it was easier prey out there. “Death it more inevitable there too, though” one beast had said in passing, as if speaking of something ominous. “Shinigami and Quincies kill us there” she’d hear. It had Cora’s curiosity piqued. New words and creatures, as if the world was expanding from the one she had experienced for millennia. Once again, she wondered what the Sun of the living world was like. She wondered if she’d ever see a  _ shinigami  _ or  _ quincy _ for herself. 

And then she did. 

The world was silent that day, with not a creature in sight. Maybe she should have found it strange, but by then days began to blur together. The wind hissed across the sand, picking up with an urgency she hadn’t seen in a millennia. The air was heavy as if on the brink of bringing down a storm, but the sky was as clear as ever. 

She sat beside the dry pool where there was once an oasis, eyes fixed on the horizon as she rested alone. She heard the hissing of footsteps first just behind her. She knew it wasn’t a beast- no, it was someone far more dangerous. 

She tilted her head upward, watching his gaze in the moonlight. There was a cruel kindness in his eyes. He was smiling gently in the way only a true predator could. She shifted to fully face him then, blinking up at the dangerously strange man. 

He was wearing almost all black and she assumed he was a shinigami. He stood just inches away as he looked down at her as if searching for any sign of fear. She had none, though; he was just another predator in a land full of them. A strange, new one, but a predator nonetheless. She could see it in the way he forced his posture to seem unthreatening. It was all a facade. An illusion. 

His hair was brown and messy, but it was a controlled mess. Everything about him was controlled. She wondered how long he’d spent hiding his nature. “Hello,” She said finally, briefly glancing at the sheath at his side. Curiosity was getting the better of her- she wanted to see what kind of blade a man like this would wield. “Who are you?” 

His smile became just a little bit larger at her question, like he was waiting for it. He knelt before her, head tilted to the side. “Hello.” He replied, and even his soft spoken voice felt forced. Was he so far into this farce that even he couldn’t stop it, or did he truly think it was fooling her? “My name is Sousuke Aizen.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The First King's reign lasted for nearly 3,000 years before he was finally taken down by a stronger hollow, a hollow with a snow-white blade. His reign was said to be a golden age.   
> If someone can get the parallels I'll be happy.   
> Things change and go by quickly in Hueco Mundo, but Cora is indeed 12,000 years old by the time of Aizen's invasion. I'd like to think an Espada or someone else mentioned her at one point and his curiosity lead to him seeking her out- after all, she's a useful bargaining chip.   
> Cora has been rather worn down after so long of being alone with simple creatures and very little conversation. It doesn't take much persuasion to follow him. Her only request was to see the sun, and he promised to give it to her.


End file.
